


Vere Vivere

by ninjalanternshark



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Character Study, Coming Out, M/M, Trans Male Character, trans sam seaborn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 09:31:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12791685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjalanternshark/pseuds/ninjalanternshark
Summary: Character study of Sam, revolving around him being trans.





	Vere Vivere

**Author's Note:**

> Title is Latin for "live truly," according to the one and only Google Translate.
> 
> TW: coming out, dysphoria, unsafe binding practices, mentions of surgery, misgendering, mentions of character death

The first time he remembers his body feeling wrong is when he’s ten years old, having just been informed with the rest of his classmates that his breasts will start growing soon and he will bleed. He casts a curious glance toward the other room, where they’d taken the boys, and then joins in half-heartedly with a group of his classmates discussing whether Jack Desan or Eddie Hawkins is cuter.

That summer, he asks the hair stylist to cut his hair short - “I wanted a fresh start,” he tells his parents seriously, “because I’m a middle schooler now.” They laugh and ruffle his newly shorn locks, and he feels free for a while.

He’s thirteen years old when he starts to wrap a cut-up pillowcase around his chest, secured with pilfered safety pins, when he dresses to go to school. It feels _right_ , so much more right than the training bras his mother bought for him ever did. He wonders: _what does that make me?_

And so, being himself, he goes to the public library - nothing on this kind of thing in the school library, of course, even he knows that - and walks through the aisles one-by-one until he finds a book that might explain. He doesn’t have much success.

Slowly, he replaces his outgrown blouses with polo shirts and button-downs. His parents don’t act like they care, but he catches them discussing his ‘tomboy phase’ late one night after he’s meant to be asleep. His mother is worried, his father less so. “She’ll grow out of it,” he says.

His first period is a nightmare, but it doesn’t come at school at least. Sam cries in his room for some reason he can’t understand, washes his face, and walks downstairs to ask his mother for pads.

He reaches high school. All too frequently, substitute teachers mistake him for a boy. The others correct them, reassuring them that he’s actually a girl, just a kind of tomboy. He never speaks up. They think he’s too shy, but he’s really just scared of how good it feels.

To distract himself, he learns to surf. He wears swim-shorts, which are at least better than a bikini, and a shirt that’s meant to stop him from getting sunburns but works conveniently well to hide his bound chest.

He doesn’t have many friends, at fourteen, because he doesn’t fit in with the girls and the boys don’t want to hang around the weird girl. So he reads instead, reads any book he can get his hands on, and discovers his fascination with the world.

At first, government seems like a boring monolith, something that’s just _there_ , nothing more distinctive than the ground he walks on or the air in the atmosphere. Then he reads a better book about it, and then another, and another, and suddenly he knows the number of Congressional representatives from California and how often Congress is called to session and what the President can actually _do._

It takes him almost six months, but he finally figures out the Dewey Decimal system and finds the aisle in the back of the library where they keep the books about sexuality and development. It’s not in the back on purpose, that’s just how the shelves worked out, but he thinks it’s a dirty trick anyway.

He doesn’t check out any of the books, because then he’d have to take them home, so instead he sits down right there and flips through them as quickly as he can. He goes once a week, spending as long as he can there before his parents start calling him to go home.

He’s fifteen years old when he first sees the word, written right there in the book he’s secretly reading in the back of the library: _transgender_. He turns it over in his mind and whispers it aloud, just once, to see how it feels.

The next week, he knows what he’s looking for in the directory, though he has to wait for nearly twenty minutes for everyone near it to leave. He flips through quickly, finds the reference number, and shuts the directory, trying not to look like he’s just committed a crime.

He finds three books. The most recently any of them was checked out was four years ago. He reads these ones more thoroughly, using an index card to mark his spot when he leaves, and he learns.

His parents decide they want to learn to sail as family bonding time. He grabs a men’s life jacket on the first, rented boat, and they don’t argue with him. He puts it on and snugs it up until he’s flat-chested and safe from drowning.

That summer, he begs his parents to get him a pair of board shorts for surfing, and they finally give in, trading exasperated glances with each other. Strangers start to whoop at him when he crashes instead of looking concerned.

He’s a week shy of sixteen years old when he names himself. It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon in the library, and he’s been trying on names at the advice of one of his books. He’s also got a baby-names book - he plans to tell his parents it’s for a genealogy project - and he’s going through it methodically in reverse alphabetical order, because there were just _too many_ names that started with A and only a couple pages of ones that started with Z. _Sawyer?_ he contemplates it for a second, and shakes his head. A few names later: _Sam._

“Sam,” he says aloud, very quietly, and finds he likes it. “I’m...Sam? Yeah. Sam.”

On his birthday, Sam smiles and blows out his candles and lets his parents call him their daughter, even though it makes his chest ache. That night, he’s so tired that he falls asleep without taking off his pillowcase binder. He sits up in the middle of the night, gasping for breath, ribs stinging. He fumbles with the safety pins and almost tears it taking it off.

The next morning, his ribs ache so badly that he can’t wear it. He fakes a bad cold and stays home from school. His parents let him, even though he doesn’t have a fever.

One day that fall, Sam tells his parents he’s going out with friends - friends he doesn’t have, but they’re so happy for him that he can’t take it back - and he takes the bus to a bar he’s heard rumors about. The bar is dirty and filled with smoke that makes his lungs protest, and he almost turns back at its door, but a burst of laughter from within invites him forward.

Though he’s sure he looks about fourteen, the bartender doesn’t even glance at him twice. He doesn’t push his luck by ordering a drink, but he sits at the bar anyway. Next to him is a woman with long nails and red hair sipping something bright green from a shot glass.

Over the course of a few minutes, he finds out her name is Meg and he gives his name as Sam with only a little hesitation. His voice cracks in the middle of his name, which is _embarrassing_ , but she gives him a knowing smile and directs him to a corner booth.

He approaches the group, which is apparently a sewing quartet. Sam describes what he needs, and they make understanding sounds. One of them takes a few measurements, assuring him that he doesn’t need to take off his binder. Another takes notes and draws up a little sketch for him. They check that he’s not allergic to any fabrics - Sam didn’t even know someone could _be_ allergic to fabrics - and tell him to come back in a week, laughing when he asks them about the cost. He’s got almost thirty dollars saved up from his allowance, but they turn it down.

It’s the longest week of Sam’s life, and finally it ends and he steps off the bus again. The bar hasn’t changed a bit, but the mood is different tonight - the air seems to quiver in anticipation, and the streetlights glare harshly down.

Sam finds the sewing group and they insist that he tries on his new binder there, in the single-stall restroom. He struggles into it and looks into the grimy mirror for a couple minutes, buttoning his shirt back up. On his way out, he throws away the old pillowcase. The sewing group coos and one of them tells him he looks so _handsome_ , and Sam blinks back tears of gratitude. They remind him of the safety guidelines to keep his ribcage from changing shape. He hugs them and remembers to accidentally leave twenty-seven dollars on their table.

The next week during school, he uses the girls’ restroom a total of once. When he’s washing his hands, a freshman walks in and turns right back around, wide-eyed and clearly thinking she’d walked into the wrong restroom. He starts to avoid using school bathrooms whenever possible, to the point of forgoing his usual morning glass of orange juice.

He listens in on his parents’ late-night conversations from the staircase. His father is starting to get a bit worried - maybe he’d needed a sister or close aunt growing up, since his mother worked long hours as a nurse? Sam thinks that if he’d had a sister or aunt, it would have made it even more obvious. His mother thinks he must be being bullied for his looks or his clothes or both, and that’s why he’s been so reluctant to leave his room lately.

That winter, when he’s seventeen, he tells them. It comes out in the middle of a stupid argument over how late Sam had stayed at the library that had turned into an argument over how Sam wouldn’t act or dress like the girl he was supposed to be: “Maybe I dress like I do because I’m _not_ a girl!” he yells, regretting it instantly, and he turns and runs from the house before he can see his mother’s face.

He spends that night pacing the streets of Laguna Beach, eventually standing on the beach in the moonlight and throwing rocks into the water as hard as he can. When dawn arrives, he goes home, doesn’t look either of his parents in the eye, and grabs his backpack. He does his homework in the cafeteria, an hour before classes start. His teachers ask if he’s okay, and he nods.

He goes to the public library that afternoon and aimlessly browses through the back aisles. One of his teachers finds him there and he finds out that his parents called her and told her what they knew, which wasn’t a lot but it was more than enough. He also finds out that her husband is like Sam is, and she sets up a meeting with Sam and his parents and her husband for that evening.

His parents are better about it than he’d hoped. His mother does some quiet crying, and his father mostly looks confused, but Sam gets all his questions and some he would never have thought of answered by his teacher’s husband. His parents stumble over his name and calling him _he_ , but his teacher’s husband privately assures him that they’re doing as well as can be expected and they’ll adjust in time.

A month later, they drive forty-five minutes north to see his teacher’s husband’s recommended endocrinologist. The endocrinologist spends an hour talking alone with Sam, another two producing forms for him and his parents to read and sign, and thirty seconds giving him his first shot of T.

Sam spends the last two months of his junior year pretending to have a persistent cold. His voice is raspy and cracks sometimes, and at home he gradually comes out of his shell.

That summer, he gains two inches of height and loses a solid octave of his voice. He gets a volunteer position shelving books at the library and surfs almost every morning. His father studies legal name and gender marker change forms and in early August, they go to court together and the judge looks him in the eye and grants the changes they requested.

Getting his birth certificate edited is a whole different process, one that takes months and drags into the school year, but Sam’s new name and gender marker are in the school system already thanks to the combined efforts of his parents and teacher. He uses the boys’ restroom, anxious the first few times but nonchalant after that. A few people figure out that he isn’t actually a transfer student, but they mostly leave him alone. Between being called his name and not hating the sound of his own voice, he’s not the shy kid anymore: within two weeks, the government teacher gets fed up of hearing Sam answer every question in as much depth as possible and lets him take the final, which he aces.

On his eighteenth birthday, he blows out his candles with a real smile and his parents call him by his name and for just a moment, the world is perfect.

He still doesn’t know anybody at school well, so he doesn’t go to homecoming or prom or any of the other dances, but his parents insist on getting him a suit for graduation. They take his pictures at the beach, with him posed on one of the many piles of rocks jutting out into the ocean.

College application deadlines start to loom. He fills out a few applications, putting the most time into Princeton’s. When he mails that one off, his mother softly touches him on the cheek and makes a remark about how much he’s grown up.

When he’s eighteen years old, he flies alone to New Jersey with a declared major of political science and a referral letter from the endocrinologist.

Political science is a rigorous major, but Sam thrives. He’s challenged by his classmates, which is a first, and he rises up to meet them. The library becomes his favorite haunt. He shares a dorm with a boy from Illinois who is fortunately unbothered by the fact that Sam is transgender. He’s the only one here who knows, other than the RA on his floor.

When he’s twenty-two, he graduates a semester early and moves to North Carolina for law school. It’s hard, the hardest thing Sam has ever done, but he passes the bar exam after three years of intense studying. He applies for a Senate internship on a whim, and to his surprise is chosen for a session starting in six months. In the meantime, he finds work at a local consulting firm.

He’s twenty-five when he meets Josh Lyman, a fellow intern just a few years older than Sam, and only a few weeks later he catches a bad cold and subsequently outs himself. The 14-hour days aren’t doing anything good for his ribs and back, either. He starts poking around DC, looking for a surgeon who knows how to keep their mouth shut: not everyone in the Senate is as understanding as Josh.

He finds someone he can trust halfway through the internship and finds out that somebody else has dropped a surgery slot which means that the only available slot in the next two years is in two days. Sam takes it, spends a week recovering, and goes back to work.

When he’s well into his thirties, he meets a woman named Lisa at a bar and she asks him on a date to a museum. The date goes well - she’s completely surprised when he comes out to her, and then he’s completely surprised when she comes out to him.

Of course, Josh comes back and the world comes crashing down. Josh asks Sam to trust him, and years ago Sam could trust Josh with his most damaging secret, so how could Sam not trust him now? Sam hits the campaign trail and lets his engagement with Lisa fall apart.

The Bartlet administration is one of the best times of Sam’s life. He’s working 18 hours a day in the White House speechwriting, leaving his apartment every day at 6:30 AM, and sailing only on special occasions. CJ, Toby, Josh, Leo, and President Bartlet become like family to him, with Charlie, Donna, Mrs. Landingham, and the other assistants close behind.

In summer of the administration’s third year, CJ calls Sam to her office and shows him an advance copy of the L.A. Times. A reporter, looking for a human interest story, had gone to Sam’s hometown and interviewed people he used to know. A few of them seemed to recall that the Seaborn family had only one child, a daughter who would be around Sam’s age now. The reporter had found the supposedly sealed court records and a school picture from sixth grade, hand-labelled in cursive. Sam meets CJ’s eyes, and that’s when he knows that he’ll never be the president.

The senior staff and a few others gather in the Oval Office that evening. Josh and CJ stand on either side of Sam as he explains. They get over their shock quickly enough and start to discuss strategies for moving forward. He offers to resign until Leo snaps at him to _stop it, nobody’s resigning, not over this._ Toby calls the editor of the paper multiple times. Sam listens to his furious yelling through the wall between their offices.

The story breaks the next day. Sam leans on Josh and Toby and they come out on the other side, a few popularity points down with conservative voters but not much worse off overall. Sam starts getting letters from teenagers and college students and even people older than he is. A fifteen-year-old named Jake sends him a little flag, blue and pink and white, and after a moment’s thought, he sticks it in his pen mug.

Sam does a few talk shows with Ainsley Hayes, because apparently showing people that the White House is a place full of diverse ideas gives them a boost in the polls, and eventually the topic comes up. To his surprise, Ainsley defends him as fiercely as she defends the Constitution and then scolds the interviewer for even bringing the topic up: “Clearly, your script is different than ours, because ours says we’re meant to be discussing freedom of speech in schools. Now, if you don’t mind, can we be done discussing Sam’s personal life? I had some important points to make.”

The next year, when Sam takes a call from a grieving widow whose husband could possibly win the California 47th post-mortem, he makes a promise that they’ll send someone who has a good chance of winning. “I’d give you my own name for the ticket, but there’s better people to send,” he says. “Don’t worry about anything, we’ll take care of it all.” The candidate loses, and they move on.

It’s that winter that he realizes exactly how in love he is with Josh, and they start dating quietly, under the radar. “It’s not like it can damage my reputation any more,” Sam says, and Josh rolls his eyes and makes a quip about bloodthirsty reporters.

When Josh leaves to run the Santos campaign, Sam stays at the White House. When Leo is picked as Santos’s running mate and Toby is put under house arrest, Josh and Sam have a long talk over the phone. Sam becomes Communications Director and together, he and CJ manage to run the White House with minimal input from President Bartlet, whose MS is growing gradually worse.

On Election Night, Josh calls him from the hospital and Sam can’t leave the White House until the results are in and the President has given his speech, but he does what he can. That night, he holds CJ and Margaret and Ginger and, after the results and the necessary speeches, when his office is empty and dark and quiet, he lets himself cry.

When Santos is sworn in, Sam stays in the White House as Communications Director. Josh wants him as Deputy Chief of Staff, but the lawyer insist that it’s a conflict of interest. Josh was always better than Sam at wrangling Congress, anyway, and the young woman they find for the role certainly seems to be willing to learn.

Sometimes, Sam wonders how things might have been different. Seven years into the Santos administration, he knows that he could have been a presidential candidate on the campaign trail. He watches the Democratic candidate go down in flames, and thinks that it’s probably a good thing he wasn’t given the option of running.

Besides, even if he’d been elected, he wouldn’t be able to keep a pride flag on his desk. He wouldn’t have the chance to sort through his mail and personally respond to every young person who wrote a thank-you-for-being-you letter to him. He wouldn’t have the chance to go to Josh’s apartment after a long day of work and collapse on the couch. _Yes_ , Sam thinks. _This is better._


End file.
